Two of a Kind
by annabelle-small
Summary: Charlie gets a letter from a friend which brings up some old memories. Chapter 4 rewritten
1. Chapter 1

Disclaimer: I don't own Numb3rs or anything associated with it. This story is for entertainment only.

Authors note: This is my first fanfiction story of any kind and I'm a little nervous as to how it will be recieved, so please read and tell me what you think.

I'm from Australia and I have only seen the beginning of season two, so you'll have to forgive me if there's something in the story that contradicts what happens later in the season. Although it probably doesn't matter, seeing as the main part of the story is set during Charlie's time at Princeton.

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Charlie hadn't believed the letter when he first read it. He had almost missed it altogether. Only seeing it when he had to run back upstairs to get a book he had forgotten. It was lying on the table, near the front door. He wanted to ask his dad when it had arrived but Alan had already left.

Charlie recognised the handwriting on the envelope before he even read his own name on the front. A name popping into his head. _Jack_. A name he hadn't thought about for a long time but a name he would never forget. _Jack_.

At first he had been excited. It had been so unexpected. He and Jack hadn't spoken for years. Hadn't had any contact at all. But that excitement quickly turned to dread as he read the contents of the letter. He should have known. Jack didn't write letters.

Charlie hadn't believed it. Tore his room apart looking for a book full of old phone numbers he never rang. He knew Jack would have moved since the last time they had spoken. Didn't want to call him at home anyway. What if he didn't pick up?

Found his mother's number. Prayed it was the same after all these years. A woman picked up. Her voice distant and cold.

_Yes it was true. Yes very sad. Funeral will be next week. Hope you can make it. He would have wanted you there. Have to go. Good-bye._

She hung up. Charlie didn't. Couldn't. Tears in his eyes. Squeezing the phone. Whispering. _Jack_. _Jack_. But he didn't answer. Couldn't. The dead don't use the phone. Looking back down at the letter. Last line glaring back at him.

_I don't know anything anymore._

Charlie's mind drifting back. Years and years ago. Before that line meant anything to him. Before..

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_Jacob Hillary-Lloyd. But you can all me Jack._

Jack was a prodigy too. 13 and 3/4 years old. Two months older than Charlie. His family was arguably the richest family in New Jersey. He was an only child and his parents were more than happy to hand him over to Princeton to take care of. Jack had never had a friend although he did have a nanny. He was used to getting his way.

_Charlie, Charlie Eppes._

Charlie had never heard of Jack's family before. Jack, grinning wonderfully, told Charlie he wanted to marry him. Charlie smiled and looked at the ground.

In the real world they would never have been friends. But they weren't in the real world. They were two children in a world of grown ups, treated like grown ups, expected to act like grown ups. They were special, or so they were told. They had a gift. They could do anything they wanted. Be anything they wanted.

Jack wanted to be an engineer at NASA. Wanted to send people to Mars. _We'll have a whole colony there_, he said. Jack wanted lots of things in the future. He wanted a nice house with a white fence. A wife and two children. He wanted to go out to work in the morning and then come home to his family at night. They would all sit round the table and tell each other about their day. He wanted to take his kids to baseball games and go camping. He wanted to do all the things he had never done.

Charlie realised that Jack liked talking about the future because he didn't like the present very much. But he never told Jack he knew.

Charlie wanted to be a teacher. He didn't care who he taught. Anyone who would listen. He wanted to make them understand, wanted to make them see. Jack would laugh at him._ They'll never understand_, he said. Couldn't. Charlie would just smile. He didn't believe Jack.

On Charlie's 14th birthday, Jack managed to get his hands on a bottle of vodka. They both got very drunk. It was Charlie's first time. Jack said it was his first too. But Charlie didn't believe him.

They talked about their families. Or at least Jack listened while Charlie talked about his family. Jack loved hearing about Charlie's family. He especially loved hearing about Don. He told Charlie that he was going to kill him and steal his family. Charlie just smiled and looked down at the ground.

As the night wore on, and the vodka continued to disappear, they both started to let their guard down. Jack told Charlie how much he hated his parents and sometimes even thought about killing them. Charlie laughed, not knowing if he believed Jack. Jack told him that he hated the numbers. That he wanted to get a knife and just cut them out of his head. Then he laughed and told Charlie he was really drunk. Charlie laughed too.

After that Jack was quiet letting Charlie tell him about all the times he had tried to explain his numbers to people. His mum. Dad. Brother. No one ever understood. But he wasn't going to stop until they did. He had to make them understand.

_Why?_ Jack had asked. Charlie didn't answer him. Couldn't. So Jack answered for him. _Because you're lonely._ Charlie looked at him. Jack smiled. _I'm lonely too_. Then he closed his eyes and lay back on the couch._ But they'll never understand._ Then Charlie pushed him off the couch.

When they were fifteen, Jack got sick. He went to hospital one night and didn't come back for a week. When he did he was tired and thin. He had big black circles under his eyes. He smiled at Charlie but his lips were cracked and his eyes were sad.

Charlie's mother told him that Jack just had a bad cold. Charlie didn't believe her. Yelled at her until she told him the truth. Jack had tried to kill himself. He had taken a whole bottle of sleeping pills. _He's a very sad little boy,_ she said. She asked Charlie if he was sad. Charlie realised she thought he wanted to hurt himself too. He said he was fine and went to bed.

The next day, Jack wouldn't talk to him. They did their work in silence. When they went outside for lunch Charlie got angry. Grabbed Jack and shook him. Yelled at him to talk._ Say something._ Jack ran away. Charlie followed easily catching up with him. Grabbing him and throwing him to the ground. Then he just stood there frozen. Not quite believing what was happening. Jack turned to face him. Eyes bloodshot with tears.

Charlie didn't know what to do. Didn't realised he was already doing something. Salty tears dribbling down his own face. Feeling so helpless, so confused. He didn't understand these thoughts that were suddenly in his head. Thoughts that made him angry._ Didn't Jack realise what he was doing?_

He leaned down and grabbed Jack's arm, dragging him up. He shook him again. Words forming in his mind, words that were out of his mouth before he even knew it.

_You selfish bastard. Don't you realised what you're doing? What about me? What would I do without you? What about me?_

Tears choked him and he let go of Jack. Let him slide down to the ground. Slid down with him. His whole world clouded with tears. Sobbing now.

_What about me? What would I do if you went? How would I survive?_

Jack's arm around his shoulders, soothing words in his ear.

_You're going to do fine. You're Charlie Eppes. You're going to be great. You don't need me._

Charlie held back a sob, turned to face Jack. Had to make him understand.

_But I do. I do. Because you're like me. And you're right. No one will ever understand me. But you do. And so no matter where you are or where I am, even if we are thousands of miles apart, I will always know that you are out there. And when no one understands, I'll know that somewhere out there, you will._

His world dissolved in tears again. But at least he knew that Jack understood. Had to understand. They're were two of a kind.

Jack squeezed Charlie's shoulders. Wiped away his friend's tears. Held him as the sobs subsided. A sad smile on his face.

_I know what you know. And you know what I know._

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Charlie found himself in the garage. Looking up at the blackboards covered with chalk numbers. Jack was dead. Jack had killed himself. It wasn't a surprise to Charlie. After they graduated, Jack had moved to New York, gotten involved with drugs. He had a lot of problems.

It wasn't a surprise, just a bitter disappointment. And a fear that started to creep inside him. The last line of the letter stuck in his head.

_I don't know anything anymore._

A twisted logic forming from despair and fear. If Jack didn't know anything anymore, then what did Charlie know? The words that comforted him long ago, coming back to haunt him.

_I know what you know._

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A/N: Well there it is. I'm a little unsure what to do with it. I'm aware it seems kind of unfinished. I don't know whether I should just leave it as it is, or go on with a few more chapters. Please review and tell me what you think.


	2. Chapter 2

Authors Note: Thank you so much for all your wonderful reviews, they really are a great motivator. After I read them I wanted to start writing straight away. Unfortunately life got in the way and this is the first chance Iíve had to write.  
This chapter is pretty much just some more background on Charlie and Jackís relationship through the years but I promise there will be some Eppes family action next chapter.

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As the two boys matured, their friendship changed along with them and they began to realise that their friendship was different to other friendships. Like other friendships it was based on mutual understanding and interests but there was an element to theirs that wasnít to be found in others. That difference was a need. A mutual need that only seemed satisfied by the bond they had with one another. And it was because of this need that they could over come other problems their friendship seemed to bring up.

After graduating from Princeton, Jack and Charlie went their separate ways, satisfied in the knowledge that their friendship would endure distance and time.  
Charlie didnít hear from Jack for years, but then on his 23rd birthday he got the surprise of his life.

At 1:30 in the morning, Charlie found himself staring at his old friend as he stood on the threshold of his front door. Charlie immediately knew that something was wrong just by Jackís appearance. He was skinny and pale, with dark circles under his bloodshot eyes. As Charlie led him into the house, Jack stumbled and nearly fell, saved only by Charlieís quick hands.

Charlie was the only one awake in the house, so the two men had all the freedom they could have wanted. There was no charade of false pretences between the two. Charlie knew that Jack was there for his help and Jack knew he could rely on Charlie for whatever he needed.

They spent most of the night in silence. Jack showered and changed into clothes Charlie provided. He ate lasagne and they both had a beer. The rest of the night was spent watching late night TV. The monotony was only broken when the lasagne decided to make a second appearance, and Jack had to rush to the bathroom.

Charlie fell asleep around 5 in the morning and when he woke at 7, Jack was gone. The only trace that he had been there was a note on the dining room table. _Thank You_. _Love Jack._

  
Jack turned up was three years later. Again he arrived at night, but seemed a completely different person. He was lively and bubbly. Talking at length about his new work. He ate with the family, even getting a chance to met Don who was visiting for the weekend. Charlie found himself staring at Jack, trying to reconcile the person he had seen three years ago, with the person sitting opposite him talking to Don about baseball. Later in the evening Charlieís mother commented on how happy Jack seemed. That was when Charlie knew it was an act.

Jack stayed for four days. On the night of the third day, he and Charlie went out to the garage to talk alone. Charlie was suspicious of Jackís new found happiness. Jack reminded him that they hadnít seen each other for three years. _Things change_, he said. Charlie told him to cut the crap. _I know this is an act. _He expected Jack to get angry. He didnít. He just sighed and put his head in his hands.

Charlie thought he was crying, he wasnít. When he looked at Charlie again, he was smiling. A sad, hopeless smile. _What do you want from me? You donít want me to be happy? _Charlie said he did he just didnít believe Jack was really happy. Jack laughed. _Are you happy, Charlie? Do you even know what happy is? Because I donít._

  
Jack told him everything was fine. That he liked his life now. That he liked who he was now. Charlie listened as Jack talked about wanting to get married. _To who?_ He asked. _Whoever_. Jack gave him an impish grin and said he had to leave tomorrow morning.  
Jack told Charlie not to worry about him. Charlie didnít believe Jack one bit.

The next time they met it was at a conference and Jack put his hand down Charlie pants. He said he wanted Charlie, needed him. Said that Charlie was all he could think about. Tried to force him down on the bed, but he was drunk and Charlie easily pushed him off. Then Jack started crying. Huddled against the bed in a pathetic mess. Charlie gathered him up in his arms and they sat together for two hours. Jack tried to kiss him and Charlie let him. A soft, chaste kiss that meant nothing to Charlie and everything to Jack.

Jack eventually fell asleep and after another hour Charlie felt his legs begin to cramp up. He tried to free himself from Jackís grip. Thatís when he saw the track marks running up Jackís arm. It took a moment for him to realise what they were but when he did he wanted to scream. Instead he just held his friend close and cried silently.

He never told Jack he knew his secret. They parted ways again and although he didnít know then, that was the last time Charlie would see his friend. But their friendship wasnít over.

Two years later, Charlie made a phone call. The number was disconnected. He called Jackís mother, she gave him a new number. He called five times in two hours. On the fifth time Jack picked up.

_  
My mumís dying. _The words were out before Charlie had time to think about them. Then he lost control. Curled up on the floor of the garage. In the dark, sobbing over the phone to the only person who had ever understood anything. The only person he could turn to. 

Jack wanted to be there, wanted to help Charlie. But he couldnít. Jack said he had to stay in New York for work. Charlie knew he was lying but he didnít care. He was past caring about anything but the pain that was slowly ripping him apart. Past caring about anything but his own need.

They talked for hours. Talked about nothing. About loss and happiness and other things they didnít understand. About how numbers werenít like people. Numbers didnít hurt, or die. _Numbers canít feel love either, _Jack said. Charlie wasnít sure that love was such a good thing. Love only seemed to make pain hurt more. _Loss seems deeper when youíre losing something you love._ Jack said he wouldnít know.

That was the last time they ever spoke. The next time Charlie called Jack didnít answer. Couldnít answer. And Charlieís needs went unmet.

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A/N: I will probably only write one or two more chapters after this one. Iím still a little unsure how itís going to end but I have a few ideas Iím going to explore.  
I hope you like it so far.


	3. Chapter 3

Author's Note: I've had some trouble deciding where to take this story, and this chapter was harder to write than the ones before it. So I hope it came out all right. Please review and tell me what you think.

I know I said there would be some Alan and Don in this chapter but I'm afraid it's just Charlie and Jack again (well sort off), but I'm about half way through the next chapter and I promise they're in that one.

Also I raised the rating because there is some strong language at the end, but I'm not to sure about the system so if it's not high enough please tell me.

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"No I can't. I'm sorry Larry. I know I should have called earlier, but the emergency didn't come up till this morning. No everything's fine. I just need a personal day. Thanks, Larry. I owe you one."

Charlie hung up and took a moment to take some deep breaths.

"You could have told him the truth. I don't mind."

Charlie didn't look up. Didn't have to. He had known that Jack had been there for about 5 minutes. This was the first time he had spoken.

"Leave me alone."

Charlie spared one last look at the phone before heading outside again. He had spent the last hour 'rearranging' the dozen or so blackboards in the garage, so that they were all now leaning against the walls, backs turned to Charlie so he couldn't see the numbers. He didn't want to see the numbers. Didn't want to have to think about them. He needed his mind to be clear.

It was only after he started about his task that Jack appeared. He stood watching him from the corner of the room. Moving every now and then so that he was always in Charlie's peripheral vision. Charlie didn't look directly at him. Tried to ignored him. To pretend he wasn't there. Maybe he would just go away again. Why was he even there in the first place?

After his phone call to Larry he went back outside to the garage, knowing full well that Jack would be there when he arrived. Waiting silently for him, like some kind of goddamn angel of death. And there he was, sitting on the lone chair in the room, whistling softly.

Not wanting to give him any attention, Charlie turned his back, looking at the now bare walls. He sighed and put his head in his hands. _This really was too much_, he thought. He didn't want to encourage Jack. He could tell he was in one of his moods, but he really couldn't take it anymore. He knew Jack wouldn't leave until he was sated.

"What the hell are you doing here, Jack?"

As if suddenly empowered by Charlie's words, Jack sprung to his feet and walked over to him. Grabbing him by the shoulders, he turned Charlie round.

"What the hell am I doing here, _Charlie_?"

Charlie could tell Jack was making a point. Shrugging off Jack's grip he strode to the other side of the room. Wanting to be far away from of the gaze of...this thing.

"Because I'm going insane." He answered quietly.

"Wrong." Jack smirked. "You are not insane, just momentarily free of your senses. But they'll be back soon enough."

Charlie was looking at the ground refusing to acknowledge the dead man in front of him. Talking to him. It was crazy. He was crazy. He didn't feel crazy but then again he had never been crazy before, so who was he to judge.

"Just go away, all right. I don't want to have to deal with it."

"Yes you do. If you didn't I wouldn't be here." Jack paused for a moment. "I'm here because of that."

Charlie had to raise his head to see what Jack was talking about. He was pointing at Charlie. At the pocket in Charlie's jeans. The pocket where he had put the letter. Unable to read it for the hundredth time, he had stuffed it there before beginning to rid himself of the numbers.

He slowly pulled it out. Holding it out to Jack. If he wanted it so much he could have it.

"Here take it. I don't want it."

Jack didn't move.

"TAKE IT."

But Jack wasn't there anymore. Shocked at the sudden disappearance, he looked around the room, trying to located him. He was gone. Charlie's head hurt. He looked at his watch, it was only 11:30. His dad was out for the day and wouldn't be home for hours. Charlie found himself sitting on the floor without knowing how he had got there. Crossing his legs and closing his eyes, he tried to think.

"Don't think too hard. Your head might explode."

Jack's harsh whisper in Charlie's ear not as much of a surprise as maybe it should have been.

"You're just in my head."

He heard Jack chuckle quietly. "Man, that's got to be the most intelligent thing you've said the whole time I've been here."

To emphasis his point he rapped Charlie on the head with his knuckles. "But then maybe I've always been in your head. Maybe I never really existed. Maybe that letter is a fake you made up. Here give it to me, let me see if it's your hand writing."

Jack attempted to climb over Charlie to get the letter from his right hand. Feeling the sudden pressure he tried to push Jack away.

"Get off."

Jack persisted and Charlie was about to smack him when he suddenly stopped. Checking himself as he realised that he was about to get into a fist fight with a hallucination. Jack stopped too. Settling back down to his previous position. An awkward silence descending upon the room. This time Charlie was the one to speak up.

"Why are you wearing that?" Looking pointedly at the black suit and tie Jack was wearing.

Jack was staring into space, and didn't divert his gaze as he answered Charlie.

"I guess because it's the last thing you saw me in."

It took a moment for Charlie to realised what he was talking about. The memory of that night at the conference flashing in his mind. _Right, of course. That night. _ Seeming to sense Charlie unease, Jack nudged his shoulder gently.

"That was awkward, wasn't it?"

Charlie couldn't help but smile. "I didn't mind."

"Yeah I know. I always knew."

At Jack's last words Charlie turned to face him. "What do you mean?"

"Come on Charlie. I wouldn't be saying this if you didn't already know. You were a door mat to me. I walked all over you. Used you when I needed you, and threw you away when I was done. I was a user..."

"Stop it. That's not true. I don't think that."

Jack laughed. "Of course you do. If you didn't I wouldn't be saying it."

Charlie wanted to argue but he realised Jack had a point. He had a point. But he didn't really think those thing, did he? Jack was his friend. Jack was his...well his soul mate. He liked Jack. He liked him.

"Hey, don't cry." Jack reached up to wipe a tear from Charlie's eye. "If you start crying, then I'm going to start crying. It's okay, you're allowed to feel this way. I was a jerk."

"No, you weren't." Charlie's voice sounded weak and desperate.

"Yes I was. Remember that time when we were 16 and I lost my virginity and I made you sit and listen to all the graphic details even though you begged me to stop. And then later I confessed that I made it all up. And then a year later I did it again and said it was for real."

Charlie nodded, not trusting himself to speak.

"Well I lied that time too." Jack paused for a beat. "See, jerk."

Jack put his arm around Charlie's shoulder, holding him close. "It's okay." His voice was barely more than a whisper. "We were kids. We were friends. And then we grew up. And shit happened. We're not the same people anymore."

"You're not even a person anymore."

Jack laughed at that, before getting serious again. "I was too dependant on you. I made you feel like you were obligated to look after me. That was wrong. And when you tried to care, I screwed you over. And then I went and killed myself. And sent you that damn letter and made my death all about you. That wasn't fair."

Jack stopped and Charlie took a moment to think about What he had said. Was it true? He guessed that there was some truth in it. He loved Jack so much. Loved knowing that he was out there in the world and now that he was gone he felt empty and alone. But there had been times when he had wished that Jack would just get it together. Stop wallowing in self pity and get over it. And as the years went on he started to think of Jack as more of an idea, rather than a real person. But still he would never say those things.

"You don't have to. That's why I'm here." Jack flashed him a wicked smile, and started to get up. "But I'm afraid there is only so much I can do and the last step is all yours."

He turned to stand in front of Charlie, looking down on him.

"I have to go. But before I do, I want you to know something. Jack never blamed you. He loved you and wanted you to know it. In fact it was you that kept him going all these years. But you already know that." He winked. "Now tell me to go away. No wait, tell me to fuck off."

Charlie balked at that, but Jack was insistent.

"Just say it. You have nothing to lose now. Go on, live on the wild side."

Charlie studied his friend closely. "I'm going to miss you. Now fuck off."

Jack was gone. Gone for the second time. And Charlie was at peace, but still alone.


	4. Chapter 4

Author's note: Well that's it. All done. I originally posted a different version of chapter 4 but on some constructive criticism I rewrote it. I am much happier with this version and I think it fits the story a lot better.

I'd again like to say a big thank you to all of you who reviewed. It really is the best motivator. I look forward to writing more in the future.

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When Alan arrived home at around six o'clock, he was surprised to find his youngest son asleep on the couch. Must have been a hard day, he thought. Deciding Charlie needed the sleep, Alan left him and started preparing dinner.

At 7:30, Don arrived, eager to eat whatever Alan was cooking. Walking in the door, he called out to his father, only to be received with a harsh shushing. Pointing in the direction of the lounge room, Alan indicated to the couch. Glancing over Don noticed Charlie curled up, fast asleep. Walking quietly over to Alan in the kitchen, Don whispered, "What's he doing there?"

Alan shrugged, busy leaning over the stove. "I found him like that when I got home. I think he had a rough day at work."

Don looked at his father quizzically. "He wasn't at work. I called him there and Larry picked up. He said Charlie had called in with a personal emergency. I tried to call his cell phone and the home phone but he didn't answer."

"And you didn't think to call me? He could have been in trouble." Standing with his hands on his hips Alan was a force to be reckoned with, but Don didn't have the energy to get into an argument.

"I'm sorry. Larry said he sounded fine. He just assumed Charlie had slept in and couldn't be bothered coming in."

But Alan was quicker than Don gave him credit for. "Because Charlie does that all the time?"

Defeated Don leant over and put his elbows on the bench. "Dad, I'm sorry. Okay. Anyway it's not like I'm Charlie's keeper. I do have a job to do."

Turning back to the cooking, Alan mumbled, "Well at least he's okay."

Rolling his eyes slightly, Don made a note to himself, that next time Charlie called in sick he would send a whole team round to check on him. At least then his dad couldn't complain about his lack of trying.

"Have you talked to him yet?"

Alan shook his head at Don's question. "He hasn't been up yet, but seeing as this is almost done, you can go wake him. Unless of course you have something better to do."

Smiling despite himself, Don wondered how long Alan was going to keep this going.

"I'll go."

Walking back out into the lounge room, Don made his way to the couch where his younger brother slept. The sight of Charlie curled up, a blanket half draped over his shoulder, hit him in a way he thought he had out grown. It was ridiculous really. A fully grown man feeling sympathy towards another fully grown man asleep on a couch. At least Alan would be proud.

Reaching down Don, grabbed Charlie's shoulder and shook gently. "Charlie, hey Charlie. Come on Buddy, time to wake up."

Realising what he was doing, he quickly looked over his shoulder, self-consciously thankful that no one from work was watching him. Seeing that Charlie wasn't even close to waking up, he got down on one knee. Groaning as his muscles protested, he shifted slightly, his leg came into contact with something that fell over and hit the ground with a clunk. Looking down, Don spied an empty beer bottle, and craning his head round the side of the couch he saw two more. No wonder he couldn't wake Charlie.

Leaning down closer to Charlie's face, he raised his voice slightly. "Charlie. Wake up. Charlie."

Mumbling, Charlie slowly came round. Blinking unseeing in Don's general direction, it took him a moment to register where he was.

"Don."

"Hey, buddy. Welcome back to the land of the living." Pausing a moment to gauge Charlie's reaction, he continued, "You okay?"

Struggling to sit up, Charlie continued blink, as if trying to get rid of some image stuck in his head. "Yeah, I'm fine. I'm...fine. Great."

Don nodded, "Right. Because you weren't at work today. I called and Larry told me you wanted a personal day. And dad, he's kind of pissed no one told him." At Charlie's startled reaction Don corrected himself. "At me. He's pissed at me, not you. I think he's just worried about you."

Charlie scrubbed his face with his hands and then ran them through his hair. Don was also starting to get a little worried. It seemed that Charlie was having a hard time waking up. Probably just the beer, he's not used to drinking during the day.

"Had a little party, huh." Don picked up the fallen beer bottle and waved it around. "How come you didn't invite me?"

Charlie smiled sheepishly. "Only had three beers left. DIdn't want to have to share."

Don put a look of disgust on his face, and swiped at Charlie's head. Charlie put his arms up to protect himself, but in reality Don's aim was way off.

"So I guess that means there's no beer left for dinner. I don't know why I come here anymore. The service is terrible."

Charlie laughed at that, but it didn't last long. The same dazed look appearing on his face after a few seconds. Lifting himself up, Don took the place Charlie's legs had been. The force with which he threw himself down almost propelling Charlie into his lap.

"Sorry. But my legs were killing me."

Shaking off Don's apology, Charlie drew his legs up to his chest. Then smiling slightly, "You're getting old."

Going at Charlie for real, Don managed to get his younger brother in a headlock. "You better take that back or you're going to lose your head."

But Charlie was laughing too much to talk and after a moment Don released him, shoving him gently back into a sitting position. For a moment neither of them spoke, both recovering for the sudden exertion.

"But honestly Charlie, is everything okay? Larry did say it was a emergency."

Charlie started to answer but stopped mid-word. Taking a moment to think, he continued. "I got a letter this morning. A friend of mine died. Killed himself. I just needed sometime to think it over."

Don was shocked. This was the last thing he expected. "God, Charlie I'm so sorry. Are you okay? Who was it?"

Charlie shrugged off Don's concern. "His name was Jack, he was at Princeton with me." Don nodded his head in recognition. "It's okay. I'm okay with it now. It just took a little time. It was, you know, a shock..." Charlie had to stop himself as he felt his self control slip. Sensing Charlie's distress Don put an arm around his shoulders, squeezing as he felt a shudder pass through them.

"Hey Buddy. I'm sorry. You could have called me, or dad. Or even Megan, if you wanted to talk. You're not alone, you know that right?"

Turning to look at his brother, Charlie had tears in his eyes. "I feel alone."

Taken back, Don loosened his grip on his brother slightly before holding him even tighter. "Well you're not. And now that I've told you, you can't forget it. No matter what happens Charlie, you're never alone."

Leaning into Don's shoulder, Charlie felt himself relax for the first time all day. Felt himself let go. It was okay now. The world hadn't ended. His life wasn't over. It was okay. Don was here. And his dad. And Larry. He was surrounded by people who cared. And even though they may not understand, they tried. And that was important. In fact now that Charlie thought about it he was ashamed he acted so stupidly.

"I know. I know I'm not alone. I do. I just forget sometimes. I need to be reminded."

Don snorted, "Don't we all." Sensing Charlie relax, he loosened his grip. " Hey we should probably go help Dad set the table."

As the two brother got up, Don placed his hand on Charlie's back and steered him towards the kitchen. "And when Dad starts going on about family responsibility I'm going to need you as a character witness."


End file.
